Pyromaniac
by hiyaitskerry
Summary: Where did Connors fascination with starting fires ever come from?
1. Chapter 1: prologue

**Pyromaniac.**

**Chapter 1 **

**Where did Connors fascination of starting fires ever spark from, what triggered it? Why did he think this was a good coping mechanism. These are the details that i believe were missed out on the actual show, so I decided to write a story.**

Christine's eyes fell on the paintings of Mickey Mouse and Thomas the Tank Engine that decorated the wall of the children's ward in the hospital. Christine then focused her attention on the little three year old boy lay in the hospital bed. Her little boy. How could she have let this happen? She had turned her back for no more than 5 minutes, to be greeted with her sons hysterical cries as he lay at the bottom of the stairs.

_*Flashback to earlier that day*_

_Christine poured some of the clear liquid that she treasured into her coffee mug, vodka. She took a few sips before she heard the patter of small footsteps coming down the stairs. She put her mug to the side and stood up._

_"Mummy," Connor mumbled as he walked into the living room holding his favourite teddy. Having obviously just woken up._

_"Morning baby," Christine smiled, lifting him into her arms and giving him a cuddle before sitting him at the table and giving him some toast for breakfast, she then sat him in front of the television watching cartoons whilst she topped up her mug._

_Connors afternoon consisted of watching back to back episodes of Thomas the Tank and Bob the Builder, around 3pm, Christine entered the living room. "Why don't we go tidy your toys up from your bedroom Mr," she smiled ticking her son playfully and taking his hand as they walked up stairs._

_"That's it sweetie put all your books in the drawer,"'Christine smiled ruffling her sons hair. She turned around to see Connor sat on the floor with his toy cars "wanna play,"'the three year old happily cheered. "ok, but you tidy up when you're finished,"'Christine smiled. _

_She then decided if Connor was playing in his room she could go downstairs and food the washing, whilst having a sneaky drink. She knew when Connor played in his bedroom he usually occupied himself for at least a couple of hours. He was a happy child and liked playing on his own. Christine left Connors room and opened the safety gate at the top of the stairs, forgetting to close it over as she walked downstairs._

_Christine entered the kitchen, pouring herself a large glass of wine before doing anything, she took a few well needed large gulps before sorting some washing out and putting it into the machine washing. She then took the bottle of wine and her glass into the living room and sat on the couch. An hour passed by at this time, no surprise. Christine had drank her way through the full bottle of wine and was currently reaching in the fridge for another bottle. Completely forgetting that she had left Connor playing upstairs. She opened her second bottle and returned to her position in the living room._

_Connor decided himself after nearly two hours of playing with his toys in his room upstairs that he was bored. The three year old picked his toys up from the floor and placed them into the toybox. "mummy?" He shouted "mummmmmy?"'he called again. Meanwhile Christine was slumbering on the couch after finishing every drop of those both wine bottles, she was too out of it, she barely heard her sons shouting. Connor frowned when his mum never came to get him, he toddled out of his bedroom and realised the safety gate was open. He smiled, he would go down the stairs himself and surprise his mum. One reason Christine had a safety gate at the top and bottom of the stairs was because her stairs were very steep. Connor started climbing down the stairs, he was doing well until he stumbled and lost his balance, tumbling down the stairs and slamming in to the gate at the bottom, he screamed out for his mum as he hysterically cried in pain._

_Christine was awoken by the sound of thumping, she was about to cover her ears with a cushion, assuming it was the neighbours banging around next door when she heard hysterical screams and realised it was coming from the hall. Connor. Christine bolted up, ignoring the dull ache in her head and rushed to the bottom of the stairs, her heart nearly stopped when she seen Connor at the bottom of the stairs, he was crying and clearly hurt. She did the first thing she could think of, phoning her mum. Despite having an argument the day previous._

**"Mum I need your help...no mum please listen...Mum it's Connor...he's had a bad fall...Mum he's fallen down the stairs...no I'm just about to call an ambulance...Ok hurry up and get here...bye"**

The rest was a bit of a blur for Christine, she barely remembered the paramedics arriving and whisking her baby to hospital. She just remembers ending up on the children's ward, holding her sons hand as he slept. Connor had been lucky not to have been more severely injured but I would call suffering a mild concussion and a break to the arm as well as severe bruises and scrapes, exactly being lucky. But for Christine she was riddled with guilt, having sobered up with the impact of seeing her son lay in a ball at the bottom of the stairs. How could she walk away and leave him upstairs? She knew Connor wasn't the most steady of toddlers on his feet, he was quite clumsy actually as it goes. But that was no excuse. She should have been look after him, not necking down wine.

That night as she sat holding her sleeping toddlers hand, glad he was going to be okay luckily. Connors attitude was as bubbly as normal when he woke up and he ate some dinner no problem. The doctor just wanted to keep him in for observation over night. Christine made a promise to herself that night that she would never put alcohol before her son again.

**Let me know what you think please and if it's worth me continuing this story!**


	2. Chapter 2: arguments!

**Chapter 2**

Nine year old Connor Mulgrew tied his school shoes, he was pretty independent for his age, always getting himself up and dressed in the morning, preparing breakfast and walking himself to his primary school. He was used to this routine, he had found himself following it after realising his mum was going to be either drunk or hungover most mornings. Something Connor was used to.

"Mum wake up?"

"Mum? Muuuuuuum!"

"What?" Christine snapped, clearly suffering a hangover after drinking like nobody's business last night. Her head was pounding.

"You've been drinking!" Connor pointed out.

"No, I'm just tired," Christine tried to correct him, but Connor was smart for his age. He wasn't an idiot. He's seen his mum in this state far too many times to tell the difference between being hungover and being tired.

"No you've been drinking...again," Connor said pointing to the two empty wine bottles on the floor.

"Oh please Connor...I just have a headache," Christine rubbed her head and tried to sit up straight. "Your gran is taking you to school today,"

"I need my PE kit,"

"Well I haven't washed it," Christine poured back the rest of the glass of wine that had been placed on the coffee table.

"But you promised you would," Connor whined.

"Connor...I haven't had the time,"

"You always break promises," the young boy justified.

"Connor enough!" Christine warned.

"Because you've been too drunk to do anything else!"

"CONNOR! ENOUGH!" Christine roared loudly aggravating her headache and making the child in front of her jump slightly. Connor picked up his jacket and school bag "I hate you when you're like this," he mumbled walking towards the front door following the beep of a car horn from outside alerting him that his nan was here to pick him up.

Christine sighed, she had a tendency of raising her voice to Connor when she was under the influence of alcohol. Christine opened her third bottle of wine and poured a glassful before leaning back on the sofa, not even considering the thought that her own child may be scared of her when she acts like this.

Christine was sobered up enough by the time her mother Jean dropped Connor off that night after giving him his tea and letting him do his homework. Christine after spending the day feeling horrible after shouting at Connor and spending her afternoon in Toys R Us picking out a new toy for her son to say sorry.

Christine smiled as Jean and Connor came through the front door "I just took him for a burger for tea for quickness," Jean smiled giving Christine Connors coat and school bag as the youngster went to watch TV in the front room. "Thanks for picking him up!" Christine smiled as she made herself and her mother a cup of tea. Jean smiled and sat down at the table.

"Connor tells me you snapped at him this morning?" Jean asked as she took a dishes give biscuit that was offered to her by her daughter and dipped it into her tea. "Oh did he now?" Christine replied sitting across from her mum at the table.

"Yes he did as a matter of a fact," Jean replied, looking at her daughter closely "He told me you were drinking? Were you?"

"No mum, I was not drinking," Christine protested.

"I don't understand why he would say something like that.." Jean replied.

"He's obviously telling lies!" Christine said, not wanting her mum to know she has been drinking again for quite some time now.

"I can't imagine a nine year old lying about something like this,"

"Mum can we please just drop it, clearly it is a misunderstanding!" Christine retorted pouring the rest of her tea down the sink.

Jean didn't say another word about it, but she wasn't completely sure if her daughter was telling the truth. But she didn't want to constantly keep on nagging at her.

Half an hour passed when Jean finally left her daughter and grandson as she went home. Christine went in to the living room to see her son watching the TV. She smiled and ruffled his hair "I'm sorry for shouting at you darling," she said honestly. Connor just nodded, "Come up to your room for a minute, I want to show you something!" Christine smiled, Connor gave her a confused look but followed her anyway. They climbed the stairs to his room and on the bed was a action figure that Connor had been wanting for ages and a new drawing pad and pens. "I thought I would treat you darling," Christine smiled, kissing his hair. Connor beamed and hugged her tight "Thanks mum,"

Christine smiled "Right go run your bath, it's getting late and you have school tomorrow Mr,"'Connor did what he was told. He had already forgotten what had happened this morning, but that wasn't the last of Christine's drinking. Not for a long shot.


	3. Chapter 3: Lies

**Sorry I haven't updated in a few days, I've been busy with work and college work but here is a quick chapter and I will probably update again today/night as I feel like writing a lot today. Hope you enjoy. **

**Chapter 3 **

The next few weeks Christine tried her best to hide her drinking from both her mother and son. She knew that if Connor even suspected she was still drinking, he would tell his gran. And one thing Christine definitely didn't need now was Jean's constant nagging. Christine longed those six hours a day where Connor was at school because she could then be reunited with her beloved drink. Stopping wasn't a choice in the matter. She couldn't try, even if she wanted to. It was an addiction.

"Mum, do you promise you've stopped drinking?" Connor randomly asked one night when mother and son were watching TV. Christine was taken aback by the random question but nodded her head.

"promise?" Connor asked again.

"Yes," Christine said as she cuddled her son.

Connor just nodded, not sure what to believe. But at least she was trying. Christine made them both a not chocolate as they watched a movie, considering it was Saturday night. Christine allowed Connor to stay up late. Connor smiled, he enjoyed these bonding moments with his mum. They didn't happen very often, so it was nice when they did.

Around half ten Christine smiled at the sight of Connor asleep on the sofa, she decided not to disturb him so instead just grabbed a blanket from the side and covered her son with it. Once she was sure he was fast asleep, she took herself to the kitchen and poured herself a beloved glass of wine, feeling instant relieve as her favourite substance slid down her throat, instant calmness. She knew she was lying to her son. But she just couldn't give up.


	4. Chapter 4: Happy Birthday?

**Chapter 4**

Connor woke up with a smile on his face. Today was his tenth birthday. Christine and Jean had organised a party at a rented hall in town, for all Connors school friends and family to celebrate his birthday. Connor got out of bed and went downstairs to be greeted by Christine.

"Happy Birthday sweetheart!" She smiled hugging him tightly. Connor smiled, this was a good sign, she was sober and happy. No hangover or anything. He had a good feeling that his birthday was going to run smoothly. Unlike his ninth birthday party which was a complete disaster but he didn't even want to think on that term. "Thanks mum,"

Christine then took Connor into the living room, where she had left his cards and presents on the couch. Connor smiled and started opening his birthday cards. Christine ruffled his hair and watched him, smiling at how happy he looked. Connor was actually happy.

Connor was happy with everything he got, a new DS with games, clothes, DVDs, books, etc. Jean popped over in the morning to see her grandson on his birthday and greeted him, spoilt with and armful of presents. Christine was just glad to see Connor happy. Genuinely happy.

Later that day after spending the morning decorating the hall for her sons party, Christine greeted the parents who were dropping their children off. She was determined to make this day special was Connor. She smiled as Connor ran around and had a good time with his friends, it made her very happy seeing him like this, and it was a distraction from the party.

Connor was happy with all his gifts from friends and was clearly enjoying his part, which was a relieve for Christine. The smile on his face when he seen his birthday cake put a huge one on her face. Christine was glad the day has went well and when they returned home that night, Connor was happy to entertain himself in his room with the things he got for his birthday.

Christine sat in the kitchen, the temptation was worse than ever now. She stood up and opened the cupboard, revealing her stash of vodka and wine bottles. She was past tempted now. One glass wouldn't hurt right? It was her sons birthday after all, she deserved to have one glass to celebrate. She had no will power or anything or felt no regret as she reached for the bottle of red and a glass filling it to the top, the glass was gone in no more than five minutes and a second was being poured. Christine wouldn't admit it but she had a problem.

"Stupid TV," Christine slurred to herself, she was on her fourth glass of wine and there was nothing decent on the TV for her to watch, this resulting in her turning it off and grabbing another bottle from the kitchen and making herself comfy on the couch, forgetting her son was only just upstairs.

Connor entertained himself until about 9.30 when he decided he was hungry and wanted a snack, he left his room and ran downstairs, expecting Christine to be watching the TV in the living room "Mum?" He stated as he entered, his eyes fell on his mother asleep on the couch surrounded by three empty wine bottles. She promised. She broke her promise...again. Connor stormed in to the kitchen, angry at the fact she had been lying to him about her giving up drinking. He stupidly believed her. Connor opened the fridge to see what he could have to eat when it caught his eye, the silver glimmer reflecting on the work surface, the lighter that Christine had earlier used to light the candles on his birthday cake, in the moment without thinking Connor picked up the lighter and stared at it for a few minutes, he then clicked down and watched the bright flames dance around in front of his eyes. Something about this experience, made him forget that he was even angry. He felt calm, watching the flame. He didn't understand why, but he liked this. It was strange, but he did.

Connor pocketed the lighter, he grabbed himself a packet of salt and vinegar crisps from the cupboard and headed back up to his bedroom. He lay in his bed, flicking the lighter on and off, he knew he shouldn't be playing with lighters. He's ten years old, and he knows fire is dangerous, but this was better than screaming and shouting. Watching those flames, seemed to be the calming he needed.

Was this just a phase or was it about to turn in to something a lot more?


End file.
